Secrets and Lies
by FanGirl93
Summary: Suffering from nightmares about the rising of Lord Voldemort less than a month ago and the murder of Cedric Diggory Harry vows to get out. Will he succeed and can he do it without alerting Dumbledore? But can he really leave them all behind? Abandoned.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

Harry Potter tossed and turned all night. It had been like this every night since Voldemort's return. The only difference was at least when he was in school he could put up a Silencing Charm around his bed, being home, well that was a different story all together.

"No! Don't kill him. Kill me instead! Cedric!" Harry woke to his own screams, sweating and gasping for breath while trying to untangle the sheet that he had wrapped himself in.

He never even heard the heavy footsteps coming from the hall. "What the blazes is going on in here, Boy?" Roared Uncle Vernon from the other side of the door, opening the many locks in the process.

"N – nothing Uncle Vernon." Harry stuttered in between gasps, finally managing to throw the sweaty sheet off him.

The door burst open and Harry's angry uncle barged in. "What the hell do you mean by this Boy? You've only been back three nights and every night you _insist_ on waking the whole house up by your screaming. Is this some kind of sick joke?" Harry watched as his uncle's face got redder and redder with every word finally landing on his favourite colour; puce.

"No Uncle Vernon," Harry replied, still trying to shake himself out of his horrific nightmare. "Had a bad dream that's all. Sorry."

"You will be, Boy." Uncle Vernon turned to leave. "Don't even think of letting it happen again!"

Harry sighed and leaned back against the wall. There was no way he could go back to sleep now. Not many people would be able to if they had just relived Voldemort murdering Cedric Diggory yet again.

It was horrible, Harry felt as if he was actually back in the graveyard. He could see the dirt and grime on Cedric's Champion robes from the Maze. He could see the dirt on his face, the fear on his face. He could see Wormtail carrying a bundle and a wand, walking towards them. He could hear the raspy hiss that belonged to none other than Lord Voldemort. He could hear the incantation, see the green jet of light speeding towards Cedric, see the fear on Cedric's face turn to pure terror, see Cedric's body fall, his face frozen, hear his body hit the ground, see the life leave his eyes, watch him die.

Harry jumped from the bed, shaking his head to rid himself of the memories. Walking over to Hedwig he said softly. "It's OK girl, just another bad dream."

With Uncle Vernon's threat hanging over his head, along with the welcome back to the graveyard Harry was sure he would receive he decided not to go back to sleep. Not that he could if he had wanted to anyway. A glance at the repaired alarm clock said that it was just before five in the morning.

After dressing quickly in the smallest pair of jogging pants that he owned (though they were still far too big on him, being just another hand-me-down from Dudley) and a baggy hoodie, Harry went to open his door, enraged to find it locked again. Even after the _conversation_ that Mad-Eye, Remus and Mr. Weasley had with Uncle Vernon, he still insisted on locking Harry up!

Harry snatched his wand of the bedside table and trained it at the door. He was so tempted to use under-age magic but managed to restrain from doing so. After all, Cornelius Fudge wasn't Harry's best friend at the moment and was looking for any excuse to degrade him to the public. The only people who believed Harry at the moment were Hermione, the Weasleys, Sirius, Remus and Dumbledore.

Dumbledore! That was it! Dumbledore could do wandless magic surely if Harry concentrated enough he would be able to do a simple _Alohomora_, a first year charm. After all, he _had _managed to blow up Aunt Marge. And even if that was considered accidental magic, he hadn't even had his wand on him at the time, therefore it could also be categorized as uncontrolled wandless magic. At least to Harry's reasoning.

Harry put his wand on the bed, he didn't want to accidentally end up using it, that would only guarantee a letter from the dear old Ministry whereas attempting wandless magic still proposed the possibility of a letter it didn't guarantee it.

Laying his hand on the door handle Harry closed his eyes and concentrated on his magic and how it felt every time he used it to cast a spell or charm. He slowed his breathing and thought about the door unlocking, willing his magic to do what he wanted it to do. He pictured the locks turning one by one until there was no barrier left between him and the hallway bar the door itself. After what seemed like an age and a day but was only ten minutes of deep concentration, Harry pushed down on the handle and pulled the door towards himself astonished to find that it had actually worked. He'd done it! He had actually used _wandless _magic. He, Harry Potter had used _wandless _magic!

Harry dashed to his trunk and grabbed his Invisibility Cloak out of it he also grabbed his wand back of the bed, he would never know when he would need to defend himself after all. And being Harry Potter meant that he had to defend himself quite a bit!

After waiting a full ten minutes and not receiving any Ministry Owl, Harry decided that it was relatively safe to leave. "Be back soon, Hedwig." He crept slowly down the stairs, not wanting to re-awaken the slumbering Dursleys. Once was enough for one night. Not wanting anybody to see the front door open for no apparent reason, Harry slipped out the back. It was much easier opening the back door, mainly because there was only one lock on it and the key was still in the lock but Harry still managed to waste a good five minutes with his fumbling fingers due to his excessive giddiness.

He didn't bother locking the door again, for one he needed a way back in before the Dursleys woke and second, well who would bother stealing from the Dursleys? If Uncle Vernon heard anybody in the house... well there was a reason why Harry feared his uncle.

There was plenty of light by now, a glance at his watch revealing that it was a quarter to six. How had the time passed so quickly?

Harry put on his cloak and hurried down to Westieria Lane, once there he stuffed his Cloak into one of his pockets preferring to keep himself visible. He would need to be if he wanted a trip on the Knight Bus. There was a distinctive _pop_, announcing the Knight Bus's arrival to Harry sticking out his wand arm. It would be just his luck that it would be Stan Shunpike who would be conducting the Knight Bus that morning.

"I need to get to the Leaky Cauldron. Now." Harry said, interrupting Stan while stepping onto the Bus. Stan's eyes popped open when he saw the new customer. Of course Harry already knew this would happen and had made no attempts of trying to hide his scar, what was the point when every member of the Wizarding World knew his face regardless? Epically due to the fact that the _lovely, _Rita Skeeter had his face plastered all over the _Daily Prophet _all throughout the Tri-Wizard Tournament – wait, best not to think about that!

The point was though that Harry couldn't go anywhere without being recognised. It was infuriating!

"O' 'course, Mr. Potter." Stuttered Stan after a moment of gawking. "Leaky Cauldron, Ern! Pronto!"

Harry was about to sit down when the bus appeared right in front of his destination. Although, maybe being Harry Potter wasn't _that _bad sometimes. He'd noticed that it certainly had its perks when it came to queues. "How much?" He asked, pulling out his money bag. He always kept a few coins on him, even when he was at the Dursleys.

"Nufink, on the 'ouse." Said Stan, that awestruck expression never leaving his face. Harry stepped of the bus, thanking Stan and Ern over his shoulder.

The Leaky Cauldron was just as drab as it had always been. Nothing had changed. Tom the barman was wiping down the worktop when Harry walked in. "Ahh, Mr. Potter. What can I do for you this morning?"

"Honestly, Tom." Replied Harry, propping himself up on a bar stool. "How many times do I have to tell you that it's 'Harry,' I mean if I get to call you by your first name then why shouldn't you receive the same courtesy?"

"Right'o, Harry," laughed, Tom. "So, how are you doing then, since I've seen you last?" It wasn't a well known fact that Tom had gotten rather close to Harry during the summer before Harry's Third Year at Hogwarts, when he had stayed at the Leaky Cauldron. Of course this was mostly due to the fact that Harry's screaming during the night had woken Tom more than once during that time.

Tom watched as Harry's eyes took on a haunted look, the same as they did any time he thought of the Dursleys, hi parents, Voldemort and now Cedric. "Same old, same old. You know yourself Tom." With a visible effort, Harry perked up and clapped his hands together. "So, any breakfast going then?"

"Well there's porridge or a fry if you want."

"I'll have the fry please."

Tom walked off through a concealed door behind the bar, returning a moment later with a platter of food for Harry. Harry ate the food hungrily, his lack of manners easily comparing to Ron's. Though he couldn't really be held accountable, he hadn't eaten in three days, not since he had returned to the Dursleys _care._

"What time does Gringotts open?" Harry asked as he finished, dropping a couple of Galleons on the counter.

"Ten minutes ago."

"Thanks Tom. See you later."

Fifteen minutes later, at around seven-thirty in the morning Harry Potter walked through the doors of Gringotts and up to the counter. "Can I help you?" Asked an uglier than usual goblin. The goblin was peering over a high desk with a nameplate reading Griphook. Harry remembered with a start that this was the goblin that had taken him down to his vault the first time he had ever visited Gringotts.

"I was wondering if you could tell me how much gold I currently have in my vault. The name's Harry Potter."

"If you have not made a transaction since your last Contents Summary then the amount will be the same." Griphook sneered.

"Excuse me? Contents Summary? I have never received a Contents Summary from Gringotts." Harry replied confused. How many Contents Summary's was he supposed to have received and why had he not received them?

"You have never received a Contents Summary for your Vault? Or for the Potter Family Vaults?" Griphook asked obviously startled by that revelation.

"No sir."

Harry fought the urge to squirm under the goblins gaze. It was as if he was looking into his very soul, his very core. Finally after what seemed like far too long Griphook spoke again. "Come with me Mr. Potter."

Harry followed the goblin down a maze of hallways, it was obvious that he would have gotten himself thoroughly lost had he been on his own. He followed Griphook into an office and sat down when instructed only to see Griphook leave. "Wait," called Harry. "Where are you going?"

"I will be back momentarily Mr. Potter." He said leaving Harry alone in the office. The office was dark, the lamps in the corners of the room giving out an ominous glow. It was very simply furnished with a desk, a chair behind it and two chairs in front. One currently occupied by Harry.

Harry whipped his head around at the sound of the door opening again. Griphook stepped into the office. He was alone but had a piece of parchment in his hands. "Mr. Potter." He began, sitting down behind the desk. "In my hand I have the Contents Summary's you wished to see, of both your own vault and that of the Potter's Family Vault." Harry started at this but Griphook ignored it, continuing as if nothing had happened.

"I also have a reason as to why you never received any of our Contents Summary's beforehand. It appears that all Summary's were sent to your magical guardian up until now so as not to alert your Muggle guardians to your fortune as we were under the impression that they would somehow try and lay their hands on it, even though there is no way they could have." He added hastily, when he saw the look on Harry's face.

"Your Summary's were supposed to be re-directed to you during the first year at Hogwarts School. Unfortunately, due to an error on my part this did not happen. I would like to offer my full anthropologies in this matter." Griphook bowed his head in Harry's direction.

Harry who had still not moved an inch after hearing the words 'Potter's Family Vault' looked at him in amazement. Never in his life had he heard of a goblin apologising. He knew to be certain that this was a rare occurrence at best and to be apologising to Harry, an under-aged wizard was even more baffling. "It's okay Griphook. I accept your apology and hold you to no fault." He said offering the custom words that would absolve the goblin from any wrongdoing, thus saving his job and probably his life. For a goblin would only offer an apology if they were in fact facing death for their crimes. Not that Harry had any idea as to why Griphook would be facing death for a mistake as simple as this but Harry knew enough about goblins than to ask about their customs.

"I thank you Mr. Potter." Replied Griphook. He looked a small bit relieved. He handed Harry the piece of parchment and then asked, when Harry was finished reading; "Do you have any questions Mr. Potter?"

Harry glanced down at the first part of the parchment again. The first vault was his own trust fund.

_Trust Fund of Mr. Harry James Potter. Son of Lord James Xavier Potter and Lady Lily Rosalinda Potter. _

_Current holdings: 136,000 Gallons 28 Sickles 75 Knuts_

_Next instalment due: July 31st _

_Amount due: 100,000 Galleons _

_Total amount to be received on seventeenth birthday. (170,000 Galleons)_

"My parents were Lord and Lady Potter?"

"They were indeed. You are to be Lord Potter when you inherit the estate on your fifteenth birthday." Griphook said looking at Harry strangely. After a moment of hesitation he stated softly. "You did not know of this."

"No," Harry replied just as softly. "I did not. How is it that I can inherit the estate on my fifteenth birthday when I wont be of age until my seventeenth?"

Griphook placed his elbows on the desk, leaning forward slightly when he spoke again. "You are able to inherit the estate Mr. Potter for two reasons. The first being because your parents wrote in their will that they wanted you to inherit at fifteen rather than seventeen. This wish was only to be implemented only if you were not in the care of either of your godparents. Lord and Lady Potter also wrote that they wanted to give you a way out of your current living arrangements. They were under the impression that they wouldn't be the most satisfactory arrangements, for either party."

Harry nodded, slowly. "And the second reason?"

"Mr. Potter you do know that Gringotts Bank is completely independent of wizards? Goblins run everything with no input from wizards except about their individual vaults. When a wizard makes a will with the bank we ensure that the will is carried out to the letter, hence the reason you can inherit your parents estate at the age of fifteen.

"The second reason is because, as your Vault Manager, I can deem you competent and fit to manage your own affairs, thus emancipating you and allowing you claim your inheritance. I can do this _without_ the knowledge of your guardians, Muggle or magical.

"This is rare that a Vault Manager can do this as he would have to have been bonded with the family he serves. I myself bonded with both your mother and father and when your parents died the bond we shared passed on to you. In essence, you and I share a bond Mr. Potter and this bond allows me to give you your inheritance when I deem you fit to receive it."

Harry was gob smacked. Never in his life had he heard of a goblin bonding with a human. He had never thought it possible and here he was being told that _he _was bonded to _this_ goblin via his parents.

"Would you like to claim your inheritance Mr. Potter? We can do it in such a way that nobody will know that you are in fact a legal adult." Griphook said leaning back in his chair once again.

"Why would we need to do that?" Harry asked confused.

"Mr. Potter, it seems to me that the fact that your magical guardian never once contacted us in reference to our mistake regarding your Vault Contents Summaries would indicate that he would prefer for you to remain indifferent to your assets."

"Hang on a second. You keep mentioning a magical guardian. Who is my magical guardian?"

"You honestly don't know?" Griphook asked amazed. How was it that this boy, the Boy-Who-Lived no less, knew so little about his life. It was as if he was a puppet having his life dictated by those around him. "Mr. Potter, your magical guardian is Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster of your school."

"WHAT?"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Harry Potter sat in the office of Griphook the goblin. His head was spinning, he just couldn't believe what he had just been told. Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, was his magical guardian. It was Dumbledore who made the decision to leave him on the Dursleys doorstep all those years ago. It was Dumbledore who left him there to be mistreated and abused by them. It was Dumbledore who let him participate in all those near-death experiences in school. It was Dumbledore. It was all Dumbledore. "Are you positive? I don't mean to insult you Griphook, but are you sure that your information is correct?"

"I am certain, Mr. Potter. Albus Dumbledore has been making all decisions with any magical connection for you."

Harry didn't know what to believe. He _trusted _Dumbledore. Why had he never told him? All the times he had talked to the man, from the time in the Hospital Wing after he had saved the Stone to just a couple of weeks ago when they had discussed the rebirth of Voldemort, he had never told him. How could he have not told him something as important as this? "There are wards surrounding my aunt's and uncle's house." Harry began slowly. "According to Dumbledore, these wards keep me safe from Voldemort and his Death Eaters. He said that they would de-activate if and when I come of age or if I didn't call the place home."

"What exactly are you trying to ask me, Mr. Potter?"

"If I were to become emancipated this instant, wouldn't that de-activate the wards?"

Griphook sat back in his chair, contemplating the unexpected question. "It seems so, Mr. Potter. This is of major concern to you?"

"Well if the wards were to fail it would have a duel effect. Not only would Voldemort be able to find me but Dumbledore would instantly realise that something dramatic had happened. My emancipation would be revealed and I have no doubt that Dumbledore would try and have it overruled in the Wizengamot."

"If I may ask, Mr. Potter," Griphook hesitated, wondering how to phrase the question correctly. "What makes you think that?"

What did make him think that? Harry sat back, rubbing the heal of his hand across eyes, trying to rid them of the tiredness. His lack of sleep was certainly catching up on him. "I have often told Dumbledore that I didn't want to return to the Dursleys. We don't exactly get on." A wry grin appeared on Harry's face. "Quite the opposite in fact. When I told Dumbledore this he always said that he was unable to do anything as they were my guardians and he was just my headmaster. He obviously lied about that. Who says that he has not lied about anything else."

"I see your point, Mr. Potter." Griphook leaned forward in his chair, a glint in his eye. "However, if you are emancipated by Gringotts then the Wizengamot will have no right to revert your legal status as by the time the headmaster were to find out you will already be Lord Potter. In regards to your aunt and uncles house, well we can easily put protective wards in place for you. Based on what you have told me about your headmaster, the wards would slowly fade into nothingness rather than just snap. We could place our own wards and have them up and running by the time the original wards fail. That would be no problem on our behalf. We could get that started within the hour and have it done within two, the likely hood of being attacked during that time would be highly unlikely."

Harry considered this, on one hand if he did this then he would be free. On the other, he would have nowhere to go. "Mr. Potter." Griphook interrupted his thoughts. Harry looked up to see him holding a second piece of parchment that he had taken from the desk drawer. "Before you make your decision, I would just like to go over further details.

Harry could feel his eyes widening in surprise as he listened to the goblin. He couldn't believe his ears when Griphook was finished outlining his plan. He also couldn't suppress a small laugh at the goblins devious nature, he had no qualms with it anyway, not if this was going to work. And from what Griphook said, it was fool proof.

It took but an instant for Harry to make up his mind. "OK, lets do it."

Over the next half an hour Griphook and Harry started the emancipation process. Basically, to Harry's dismay, this meant filling in quite a bit of paper work. And by quite a bit, it meant stack fulls. By the time he was finished signing his name on this line, in that space or his initials here or his initials there, Harry's hand was aching. "Congratulations, Mr. Potter." Griphook said, an odd look on his face. Was he _smiling?_

"Thanks Griphook." Harry shook out his hand, trying to get the blood flowing again. "So, what happens now?"

"Now, Mr. Potter," Griphook said, placing a box on the table in front of Harry. "Now you become Lord Potter." He pushed the box towards a frozen Harry.

With a shaking hand, Harry reached for the box. The moment he touched it a warmth ran down his arm and through his whole body, the same feeling he had gotten when his wand had chosen him. Without any help from Harry, the box opened itself and a ring rose into the air, making its way towards the new Lord. Harry held out his hand again and the ring found its way to his ring finger on his right hand.

Before he knew what was happening, a bright white light surrounded him. Then as suddenly as it appeared, it retreated back into the ring. Harry's voice was shaking when he spoke again. "Wh-what happened?"

"The ring has both chosen and accepted you. You are now legally Lord Harry James Potter, Head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter."

A few hours later, at around half-eleven, Lord Harry James Potter stepped out of Gringotts bank. He once felt his breast pocket to make sure that the oh-so-important piece of parchment was there. After feeling the tell-tale crinkling of parchment, Harry began the walk back to the Leaky Cauldron. From there he would take the Knight Bus back to Private Drive.

Only he wouldn't be returning to number four for long. No, thanks to Griphook Harry would never have to return there again. But no-one need know that. It would _look_ like Harry still lived there, in fact even Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon and Dudley would think that he still lived there, and Harry had the means to ensure that he could fool even the great Albus Dumbledore that he still did as well. Once that was done, the rest of his plan would just fall into place.

Harry stepped off the Knight Bus right in front of number four. Almost immediately he was hauled in the front door. "Where the hell have you been, boy?"

"Hello, Moody." Harry replied calmly, sitting himself down on one of the chairs in the living room, where a puce looking Uncle Vernon and his horse faced Aunt Petunia were at present. They were oddly silent, although that was easily explained by the presence of Alastair 'Mad-Eye' Moody.

"Don't you 'Hello, Moody' me boy. Half the bloody Order are out looking for you now!" Moody growled.

"Well you'd better let them know that you've found me then." Harry replied with a smirk. What the hell was the Order? Something Dumbledore run probably. Ignoring him, Moody took a mirror out of his pocket, tapped it with his wand and growled, "Dumbledore."

Harry couldn't see the Mirror but he could hear the conversation. "Well, Alastair? Have you found him yet?" Came the worried voice of Albus Dumbledore.

"No, I didn't _find_ him. He just stepped off the Knight Bus, happy as Larry as if nothing was wrong." Moody shot back, thoroughly annoyed.

"Right, I'll let everyone else know that he's safe and I'll be there to talk to him then." That signalled the end of the conversation.

Moody looked over at Harry who was sitting there without a care in the world. "You're to stay there, Dumbledore will be here in a moment."

"So I heard." Harry relaxed back into the comfortable chair, enjoying this far more than he should. Something happened in Gringotts, something changed his outlook to everything Dumbledore stood for. What was it again? Oh yeah, the fact that Dumbledore _lied_ to him his whole life. Incidentally Harry wondered if there was ever a true word spoken to him from the headmaster's mouth.

"You better watch your mouth, boy," Moody snarled. "Your in a world of trouble right now."

"And whys that?" Harry asked innocently.

"Because, Harry," Dumbledore replied, entering the room. He was wearing his customary purple robes with a scattering of stars. If there was ever a wizard truly a threat to the Statute of Secrecy just by dressing it was surely Albus Dumbledore. "You left here without a word to anyone, not even your aunt or uncle knew where you were."

"I went out," Harry shrugged. "Dudley does it all the time so I fail to see what the problem was."

"The problem, my dear boy," there it was, the infamous three words spoken by Albus Dumbledore when he was about to tell you something you didn't want to hear. "You can't go leaving this house without telling your aunt or uncle where you are going now that Voldemort has returned. It is much to dangerous for your whereabouts to be unknown right now."

Harry didn't reply, just giving a non-committal shrug for an answer. Dumbledore wasn't happy with this though. "I must ask you, Harry. Where were you?"

Harry looked up at Dumbledore who was by now seated directly across the room from him. "Gringotts," he got up out of his chair and walked over to Uncle Vernon. "Here." He said handing him the piece of parchment which was occupying his jacket pocket since he had left the bank that morning.

"What the devil is this, boy?" Uncle Vernon barked, finding his voice at last.

"That, Uncle Vernon, is a contract which you have to sign."

"A contract for what, Harry?" Dumbledore interrupted.

Harry took a deep, calming breath. The headmaster was seriously getting on his nerves right now. But he wouldn't let that ruin his good mood. Harry turned slowly around to face him. "If you would give me a chance, sir? I was getting to that." Harry turned back to face his aunt and uncle, giving them his full attention. "That contract, Uncle Vernon," he began again. "Is an agreement between myself and my Accounts Manager at Gringotts bank. The blood wards around this house will not stay intact forever. They _will _fail next summer on my seventeenth birthday. There will be no other protection on the house and as I will have left and will not be coming back, you, Aunt Petunia and Dudley will be vulnerable for the inevitable attack by the Death Eaters and Voldemort."

Harry paused when Aunt Petunia winced. Surely she wasn't afraid of the name? Or rather, what the name meant. "Aunt Petunia," he asked. "You know exactly what I'm talking about, don't you?" Harry received a timid nod from his aunt. He was surprised. Petunia Dursley, knowing about the war? Although that shouldn't have been a surprise, he realised, _after all she was my mother's sister._ He shook himself. "Good then, you can explain to Uncle Vernon what that all means. Right, back to this contract and why you need to sign it.

"When you sign this contract, a team of the most skilled Ward Masters from Gringotts will come here and set up the most protective wards in the world on this house. These wards will keep any witch or wizard away from the house leaving them incapable of entering or coming in contact, physical or magical, with either of you or Dudley. In other words, sign the contract and there's no way ye can be murdered by the folks trying to murder me."

"Why not all of your kind? Why just the ones out to get _you?_" Uncle Vernon asked with a frown.

He couldn't be serious, could he? "Because, Uncle Vernon," Harry spoke to him slowly, as one would speak to a two year old (or Dudley when Aunt Petunia had explained the purpose of the ABC's.) "I live here. If I'm rejected from the house then all the wards will be cancelled. It would be like putting an add in the newspaper:" He cleared his throat dramatically.

"_'Harry Potter's relatives, completely unprotected, just waiting to be questioned under torture.'"_

"Harry," Dumbledore chided.

Harry had forgotten he was even there and turned around slowly. "Yes, Headmaster? Did you want something?"

Dumbledore blinked in surprise at the question. This was not what he was expecting to be hearing when he came here to chastise Harry. "Watch what you are saying, Harry."

Harry gave him a nod and returned his attention to his aunt and uncle. They were speaking quietly to each other. Finally, after what seemed like an age and a day, Uncle Vernon looked back at his nephew. "We sign this, boy, and were protected? We don't sign it and were in danger?"

"Isn't that what I just said?" Harry asked, exasperated.

"Watch your mouth, boy." Uncle Vernon growled at him. He grabbed a pen from his shirt pocket and quickly signed his name where Harry told him too. Not even a second later a loud _pop _was heard as no less than ten of the most ugliest goblins Apparated into the living room. Aunt Petunia screamed and fell of the chair, Dumbledore pulled out his wand, Uncle Vernon squealed like the pig he was, Moody (who was still leaning against the door frame) started swearing and Harry did the only thing he could do. He laughed.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

To say everything was normal at number four, Private Drive would be a lie. Not that Vernon and Petunia Dursley would ever admit it. The fact that there were currently two wizards, their freakish nephew and ten goblins in their living room would be proof of this. As would the fact that Petunia Dursley was currently huddled in a ball on the floor at the foot of her chair. Yes, to say that everything was normal would _definitely_ be a lie.

Harry Potter, their freakish nephew, was currently holding his sides he was laughing so much. Never in his life did he think he would have ever seen something so comical. It wasn't the goblins that were funny. No, it was the looks on Dumbledore's, Moody's, Uncle Vernon's and Aunt Petunia's faces. Oh, he really should have done this during his first year, just for the laugh it would provide him with.

"Mr. Potter," Griphook said, making himself known to the almost crying wizard. "I assume the contract was signed."

Harry straightened himself up, not even trusting himself to look at anyone else in the room but Griphook. "It was. How are you this morning Griphook?" He held his hand out in greeting, finally managing to get his laughter under control. "You're well I presume?"

"I am, Mr. Potter. I trust you are in equal health?" The look on Griphook's face as he shook his hand tentatively nearly set Harry off again. Nearly, but Harry managed to keep a straight face, he wouldn't want to insult a goblin. That could put an end to his good health.

"I am, Griphook. And, like I said earlier, call me, Harry." Harry ignored the gob-smacked looks the goblins were giving him and proceeded with the introductions. There was no reason to refrain from the standard manners society had come to expect. "This is my Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, Alastair 'Mad-Eye' Moody and Albus Dumbledore." He indicated each in turn, pleased to notice that Aunt Petunia only realised her position when her name was mentioned. She returned to her chair beside her husband, her horse like face red with embarrassment.

Griphook, following Harry's lead, took the initiative and introduced the other nine goblins. Harry shook each goblin's hand as they were introduced, their faces still entertaining that gob-smacked expression.

"Mr. Potter," Griphook began once the introductions were complete, only to be silenced by a look from Harry. He tried again. "Harry," he paused only to receive a nod from Harry to proceed. "We have a couple of matters which need to be discussed as the wards are being put in place."

"Very well. We can talk in the kitchen." Harry paused when he noticed Dumbledore rise from his chair. "Was there anything else, Headmaster?" He asked politely.

"As I'm sure you're aware, Harry, you need a legal guardian present when talking about your Vault Holdings in Gringotts." The fact that that wasn't true at all must have completely slipped the aged Headmaster's mind, of course.

"Yes, I am aware of that, Sir. I'm sure Aunt Petunia or Uncle Vernon would have no problem sitting in on the conversation. Now, if that's all, Sir? As you can see I am in perfect health so you need not worry. I'm sure you have better things to occupy your time than watching wards go up around a Muggle household."

Dumbledore hesitated, looking like he was going to say something. Eventually he sighed. "Very well, Harry. I shall see you soon I think. Good day to all." With that he swept out of the room, purple robes trailing behind him.

"Potter." Moody said with a nod, an odd expression occupying his scarred features. Harry replied with a nod of his own. Moody then glared at the Dursleys, both normal and magical eye focused on them. "Remember our last conversation, Dursleys." He too then left.

Ten minutes later found Harry and Griphook in the kitchen, the other nine goblins scattered around the house setting up the wards. Harry set down a cup of tea in front of the goblin and then took another for himself. Griphook looked at the cup and then at Harry, the question obviously written on his face. "It's tea." Harry informed him.

"I know what it is, Harry." He said, pausing for a moment on his name. "What I want to question is your conduct towards myself and my fellow goblins."

"I apologise, Griphook. If I have done something to offend you then, by all means, let me know so I can attempt to atone my behaviour." Harry took a sip of his tea, savouring the warmth it brought.

"You have not insulted us, quite the opposite in fact. You've honoured us. Never once, in all of goblin history, has a wizard of your calibre treated a goblin like an equal."

Huh? "Excuse me?"

"This, shaking our hands, asking our names, giving us leave to address you by your first name, offering refreshments." He indicated the tea. "A wizard has never treated a goblin like this, as if our races were one and the same."

Harry took another sip of his tea, using the time to contemplate what had just been said. "Do you find fault with my actions today?" He asked finally.

"No."

"Then what is there to discuss? I treat you with the respect I would hope for you to treat me with. It's only common courtesy. I fail to see why I should not treat you as I would treat a fellow witch or wizard."

"You are the first with that view, Mr. Potter." Harry sent him a look. "I apologise. I shall call you by your first name if you wish. Only understand that this has never been asked of one of my race and will thus take time to get used to. Even if we are just being asked by a single wizard."

"That's fine, Griphook. And thank you."

When they were both finished their tea the two made their way up to Harry's bedroom. Once inside Griphook called for a second goblin and they both got to work. First they had to take a portion of the wall away. When they were finished with that the second goblin, Maddox, went into the master bedroom and fixed their side of the wall, creating a Glamour that the wall was in fact there even though it was nothing but an empty space in Harry's Room. Once that was done both he and Griphook began the process of creating a portal to Harry's new home. This took about twenty minutes and when they were done there was a door identical to the other in the room.

"This door can only be opened by the one who wears your ring. It is keyed into your magic and the Potter magic." Griphook explained when they were finished.

Harry nodded. "Griphook, I have a question. How come the Headmaster did not notice the ring. I'm sure that if he had seen it he would have questioned where I got it from as I could only wear it if I were Lord Potter."

Griphook smiled, a truly disturbing sight on the face of a goblin. "The ring will conceal itself to everybody who does not know of your new title. Until the time comes that you reveal yourself as Lord Potter the ring shall remain invisible and will not be detectable by any spell on the planet."

"Excellent."

"Shall we take a look at your new home, Harry?" Harry nodded and opened the door. He stepped through apprehensively followed by the two goblins. What he saw took his breath away. He was standing in an extravagant Entrance Hall so grand that it reminded him of Hogwarts. The marble floor was polished and sparkling as were the pillars and the winding staircase leading both upstairs and downstairs.

"Where are we?" Harry asked quietly.

"This," replied Griphook. "Is Potter Manor. Your grandparents, Lord Xavier and Lady Helena lived here until their death and then your father, James, moved to Godric's Hallow with your mother as he felt this was to big for them."

"Master Harry! Master Harry! You is back!" Harry looked down in surprise at the House-Elf who was squeaking at him. "Oh Dilly is being so happy to be seeing you Master Harry. Dilly thought she would never be seeing her master again. But Master is home! What can Dilly be doing for Master?"

"Erm…" Harry mumbled. He was caught completely of guard. He had a House-Elf? Honestly, what would Hermione say? The thought of his best friend brought a smile to his face. Fighting for what she believed in, knitting all those hats and setting them in the Gryffindor Common Room to free the enslaved Elves when all of Gryffindor House were asleep in their beds… even if the House-Elves didn't want to be free. Well... it was the thought that counted wasn't it?

"Could you make up a bed for me please?" Harry asked. "I'm going to be staying here for a while you see."

The Elf's eyes shone with tears. "You is asking Dilly to make you a bed so you can stay at home. Oh, Dilly is being so happy, Master. Dilly is being so happy that you is home."

Harry smiled at the Elf. "Thanks, Dilly. Look, I have to leave for a bit but I will be back this evening. Is there any chance of a bit of food then? When I get back I mean."

"Oh, Dilly will tell the cook that Master Harry will be being home for his dinner. Dippy will have dinner ready for Master Harry." The elf promised.

"Thanks, Dilly."

The elf's eyes started to shine again and Harry quickly excused himself and the two goblins who were looking at him with quizzical eyes from the room. "So how do I get back in my room at Private Drive?" He asked.

"Just say, 'Number Four, Private Drive' and a door back to your bedroom shall appear in front of you. The door will also appear in front of you when somebody knocks on your bedroom door so no one will think you absent. One more thing you should know, Harry, your ring is a Portkey. No matter where you are or what wards you are behind if you tap your ring with a finger or your wand and say 'Potter Manor' you will be brought here. To go back to where you were all you have to do is tap your ring again and say 'Take me back.'"

"Thank you, Griphook."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Potter Manor was huge. It was like a hotel. That was the only way Harry could describe it. If it hadn't been for Dilly, Harry's new House-Elf, Harry would have been left to wander around with no idea where he was going. But then again, all Pureblood Manor's were supposed to be like this. According to Dilly, each family had a Main Manor, one that was big enough to house every branch of the family during yearly family reunions. Well Potter Manor certainly was big enough in Harry's opinion. Of course that had nothing to do with the fact that he was the last of the Potter line. No, nothing at all.

There were two wings, the East Wing and the West Wing, and the Main Manor. Each wing was four storeys high and had a cellar. According to Dilly, the East Wing was the guest wing. The second, third and fourth floors of the East Wing were made up primarily of suites with about fifteen suites per floor adding up to a grand total of forty-five suites. Harry had had to sit down after hearing that. When he had asked Dilly why the Manor was so big she told him that the Potter family had once been much bigger and there were often family gatherings. The gatherings used to continue for about a week and the Manor was always being extended to house all of it's guests. Harry reckoned that it was just an excuse for the Potters of that time to live in a hotel.

Each suite had a bedroom, an en-suite, a living room, a small kitchen and a mini-library. The library's in the suites were connected to the main library in the West Wing so that there was an unrestricted choice of books to choose from to keep guests entertained. The first floor of the East Wing consisted of a formal dining area (which could seat the entire Wing), an informal dining area (which could re-size itself to seat as many as was needed), a living room and a library annex.

The Main Manor was the meeting point of the two Wings. Its main use was to entertain guests at balls or functions. Apparently the Potter's of Old had been big into politics. That was of course until the war began and James Potter had taken his wife and son into hiding. James' father, also called James, had died before his grandson had stopped Voldemort. He had been the last Potter to dabble in politics for a living.

The Main Manor had a magnificent ballroom, dining area, sitting area and of course a music area. The West Wing was the family area. The third floor had the same layout as its counterpart in the East Wing but the first and second were homely. The second floor was where the master suite was (it was even more extravagant than the suites in the East Wing). The rest of the floor was made up of thirteen en-suite bedrooms. In each bedroom there was a twin four poster bed, a desk, an armoire and a cozy two seater couch and two armchairs situated in a semi-circle around a coffee table and fireplace.

The first floor was made up of a dining room, a family room, two studies, a parlour, a games room, and a Destruction Room. The Destruction Room was rather like the Room of Requirement at Hogwarts except it had only two Rooms to choose from. A Room to vent the famous Potter (or Evans temper, Harry heard) temper or a Training Room. According to Dilly, the second function had been added generations ago when it became apparent that all Potters had trouble keeping their tempers from time to time though Lily had been known to put it through its paces more than once.

The Library took up the whole fourth floor. It was amazing, the library that is. There were stacks and stacks of books stored on shelves from the floor to the ceiling. There were so much books collected over the generations that at one stage the fourth floor had been magically expanded. There were plenty of study areas within the library but Harry preferred the study he had claimed as his own. In a secret drawer in his desk Harry had found thick ledgers. On original inspection Harry had thought that they were just business ledgers but he had been shocked to find that every single book in the whole Manor was listed in the ledgers. Each ledger consisted of a list of books, categorized and sub-categorized, there was even a book that acted as a search engine. It was like Google!

Once Harry had chosen which book he wished to read all he had to do was either speak the title or tap the title on the ledger with his wand. The ledger would then be the book. In other words, Harry just had to turn the page of the ledger and it would be the first page of the book he had requested. When he was finished with the book he would just tap it with his wand and say 'return' for the book to be returned to its rightful place in the library. The search engine was extremely helpful for when Harry didn't have any idea what he wanted. He just had to speak the name of a topic and a list of books or references to the topic would be listed on the next page of the ledger and the process went on from there. It was so complex and yet so simple that Harry could only shake his head in wonder. The best thing though, in Harry's opinion was that it only worked for Potters or the people who Harry keyed into the book. He hadn't decided whether he was going to tell Hermione about his find just yet though. Or he might, but he just might have to find out about his ability to key others into the book later.

"That's it!" Harry cried excitedly. He was once again sitting in his study a book in his lap. He had been searching for this spell for a week and he had finally found it. It was a spell created by Old Potter Magic which meant that only people of Potter blood could use it. Harry had stumbled across a passage in a random book the first morning he had woken up in Potter Manor. It had said something about warping time to suit ones needs. Harry had been intrigued and had wanted to find out more. But of course, with no Hermione around during the summer, Harry had to research the spell he wanted by himself.

After two weeks of intensive research and study, Harry had found out that he could manipulate time around him, changing a day into a year. He would be able to use this time to train himself. After all, he was number one on Old Voldie's hit list, he would have to train. But after receiving no word from Dumbledore since he had spoken to the man after he had returned from Diagon Alley, which had been two weeks ago, Harry had deduced that he would _not _be receiving training. Honestly, how thick could Dumbledore be? He was supposed to be the Leader of the Light, the only man Voldemort was afraid of, wisest wizard of the time (or something like that) surely he was smart enough to see that Harry was in danger and would need to protect himself? Obviously not. After all, Harry had only been targeted by Voldemort four times now. It probably took five failed attempts on his life in order for him to qualify for training.

Harry left the study, book in hand, and made his way down to the front door. He was going to take his chances with this spell. The good thing was that there was no chance of it going wrong because of Harry's blood. Once his magic knew of his intention after the incantation being spoken, his blood would do the rest. It was odd, and a bit disturbing to know that your blood would be doing something but Harry had nothing to lose and a years worth of training to gain.

Harry reached the door and placed his palm on the jamb as the book instructed. He pulled out his wand and pointed it at the handle, spoke the incantation and then pointed the wand at his hand and repeated the incantation. As soon as the words left his lips for the second time Harry collapsed, a bloody hand print left of the jamb of the door.

Harry awoke slowly and pushed himself up off the ground. He distinctly remembered going to sleep in his bed last night, not on the floor in front of the door. How on earth had he gotten there? He stood up and looked at the door, noticing the blood on the jamb for the first time. That hadn't been there yesterday either. He looked closely at the print. It was a perfect replica of his own hand, his left hand. The hand he had used when he had invoked the Old Potter Magic a year ago.

A year ago. It had been a year. Three hundred and sixty five days of constant training and studying. He had done it, and now he was back to the day after. He had just lived a whole year in the space of a day. Harry looked down to see that he was in the same clothes as he had been when he cast the spell, Dudley's oversized cast-offs. That would have to be remedied, he decided and headed off to his Master Suite to change.

The beauty of the spell was that although Harry had actually lived a year in one day, he had only in fact aged one day, not three hundred and sixty five. He had changed, his physical appearance had changed. Harry was now the correct height for his age and had filled out more. Imagine, one simple but awfully painful and not perfectly legal potion and Harry had reversed the years of neglect and malnutrition his body had been put through. Ah, bliss.

Harry opened his wardrobe and put on clothes that actually fit him, and looked good on him. He had owl-ordered quite a lot of clothes from Madame Malkins (who done Muggle clothes as well as Wizarding robes) the day after he had come back from Diagon Alley. She was the only person that Harry knew in the Wizarding World that supplied clothes. The fact that she already had Harry's measurements on file were just an added bonus. He hadn't worn them before now but there really was no point in letting them take up space while he was wearing rags. He glanced in the full length mirror on the door of the wardrobe, admiring the way the black t-shirt and jeans clashed dramatically with his pale skin. Phase One of Destroy Dursley's Reputation was a go.

"Number Four, Private Drive." The door appeared and Harry stepped through, ready to make breakfast for his _family_. Honestly, the day Harry thought of the Dursleys were family would be the day Voldemort donated all his funds to a Muggle orphanage or let a two year old Muggle girl do his hair and make-up. Now _that_ was something Harry would pay to see!

Harry had just finished putting the breakfast on the table when Dudders the Whale, Vernon the Hippo and Petunia the Giraffe walked (or wobbled) into the kitchen. Harry sat down at his usual place and proceeded to eat his breakfast under the glares of his relatives. Looks like they noticed his new clothes.

As soon as the other occupants at the table began to eat, Harry spoke. Now was as good a time as any to say what he had to say. "Aunt Petunia?"

Petunia looked up from the gossip rag she was reading for a second before becoming engrossed in it again before answering. "What?"

"I just wanted to let you know that I'll be going out for the day." Harry said, a smile on his face. "If anybody comes looking for me tell them that I've taken the proper precautions and I'll be back around six this evening."

"You think that you can just come and go as you please, boy?" Petunia glared at her nephew as if he was nothing more than a piece of dirt she had scraped off the bottom of her shoe. "The chores wont do themselves."

Harry straightened himself up in his seat, crossing his arms with a confidence his _family _had never seen from him before_._ "Then I suggest that you do them Aunt Petunia or get Dudley to because I won't be slaving myself for you any more. I will keep my room clean but I will not do anything else."

The silence that followed that statement was deafening. Vernon began spluttering with rage while his wife looked as if she had been slapped. Dudley put down his fork in anticipation of watching his cousin being ripped apart by his parents. "We put a roof over your ungrateful head, boy." Vernon finally managed to splutter. "You will earn your keep and do whatever your aunt tells you to do and be grateful."

Harry turned his gaze to his purple faced uncle and raised a sardonic eyebrow. "Oh? And how are you going to make me?"

If anything Uncle Vernon managed to get purpler. Harry had to force himself not to laugh by thinking of all the awful detentions that Snape had subjected him to over the years. Who knew that they would come in handy for something? "A good hiding with the belt will set you straight, boy!"

Harry stood from his chair and glared down at his uncle. "You even contemplate laying one fat finger of yours on me and I will see to it that I will use your remains in the most horrific potion I could possibly brew. Then I will contact the goblins and remove the wards that I had placed on this house and on your wife and son leaving them open to Death Eaters. After that I shall stop the monthly stipedend that goes directly into your bank account that is _supposed _to be used to cover any expenses involved in my upbringing, not supplying 'Dinky Duddykins' with whatever he wants." Harry watched the Dursley's faces pale dramaticly with a sadistic pleasure. It would be a cold day in hell before Harry actually did what he had just threatened his uncle but Vernon Dursley didn't know that. "I've had enough of your treatment of me Dursley. It ends now. I might have to stay here but that doesn't mean that I have to like it."

"You can't do that!" Petunia finally found her voice at long last. "You'll have to do magic to do what you just said and if you do that then you'll be expelled from your freaky school!"

Harry looked at Petunia with a feral grin while Vernon began to reclaim his lost equilibrium triumphantly. "I can't use my wand outside of school." Harry corrected. "That doesn't mean that I can't use wandless magic."

Harry raised his hand and faced his palm to his plate on the table. Slowly it began to rise and the three Dursleys paled once more in fear. He put it back down when Dudley began whimpering. Honestly! It was just a floating plate! "So," Harry said again, stopping by the back door. "As I said, I'll be back by six. Have a nice day!" Harry certainly would.

It was the week before his birthday when the next major upset happened in the Dursley home. Ironically it had nothing to do with Harry, but of course, if a person asked, then it had everything to do with Harry. But how he was supposed to be involved with this new development, Harry had no idea. After all, he hadn't even been around when Dudley had 'done the deed' so to speak. Urgh, must stop thinking that. He would _never _want to know how Dudley had gotten with a girl. The result of that encounter was now lying quietly in a carrier seat on the kitchen table. A seven month old baby boy. Yes, it was true, Dudley Dursley was now a father, and the kid's mother and maternal grandparents had just been killed in a car accident, leaving Dudley as the kid's next of kin.

The family's reactions were mixed, Vernon was both proud of Dudley for producing an heir to the Dursley line so early in life and horrified by the fact that that meant the kid was going to be living with them from now on. Petunia was worried about what the neighbours would think and Dudley, well Dudley looked to be catatonic. Harry just felt sorry for the child. That was until the child decided that Vernon's loud shouts of how proud he was of his son was getting old and started to cry. The three Dursleys all shrank back, each looking at the others as if to say, 'you do it, you shut him up.'

Harry had no experience with children at all, especially kids that were just seven months old but he couldn't just leave the kid to cry. So when neither of the Dursleys made to move towards the screaming infant, Harry took it upon himself to try and quiet the little thing. Harry was about to undo the clasps that was holding the infant in the seat when his uncles meaty hand pulled him back.

"What in the blazes do you think you're doing, boy?" Bellowed Uncle Vernon and as loud as the new addition to the family was, Vernon was louder.

Harry didn't flinch away from his uncle for once. He looked him straight in the eye. "Would you like to quiet him then? I can assure you though that your methods that you used on me will not work on him."

"Oh, and why won't they?" Vernon was rapidly purpling. Harry could see the vein begin to throb in his temple.

"Because I won't let them." Harry pushed the hand of his shoulder and took threatening step towards his uncle. "Did you even bother to read that contract you signed, _Uncle _Vernon? If you had then you would know that the strength of the wards that were put up here depend on your behaviour. Your behaviour towards me." Harry watched with sadistic pleasure as Vernon paled when realisation began to dawn on him. "Yes, I see you're beginning to understand. The wards that Gringotts goblins put up are based of the Blood Wards that were set here all those years ago. Through blood they are directly linked to Aunt Petunia and Dudley, and through Dudley you. And well, I suppose that little guy." He added as an afterthought, actually, he would have to ask Griphook about that. "But Blood Wards are based on intention, and as these wards are originally based on the Blood Wards that these wards are based on intention also. Now, if you don't understand that, Vernon, then let me make it clear to all three of you. If you don't treat me like a normal human being from now on then these wards will _not _protect you. However, if you _do_ treat me like an actual person then they _will. _And until you do start treating me like a person, even a person you don't like because, lets face it, none of us will ever like each other, the wards won't activate.

"And that extends to this little guy here as well. He's now under _my protection,_ therefore you have to treat him properly as well if you want your safety to be a guarantee. And that, Vernon, is why your methods will not work." And with that, Harry unclipped the buckles and lifted the still crying baby out of the carrier, grabbed the baby bag and went up to his room.


End file.
